CHANGE OF LIFE legacy Nine
by GStales
Summary: The ninth story of the Change of Life series
1. Chapter 1

**Legacy**

**One**

The newborn was swaddled tightly in a cotton blanket; her body still bore the evidence of her recent birth. Holding her firmly in his arms, Kingston Sharlow judged her weight to be equal to a five-pound sack of sugar.

Wally Sharlow stood next to the wood stove trying to ease the chill that caused his teeth to chatter. He figured he'd done his part for one night, and was looking forward to something warm in his stomach and then catching up on a little shuteye. His father had other ideas as he started barking out orders.

"Fill that there basin with hot water and take it into the doctor." He directed. Wally did as he was told, hoping when he came back into the kitchen he could attend to his own needs.

Task completed the boy returned and grabbed an empty mug and made a move to the coffee pot, but before he could fill his cup his father said, "Let's get this here little gal tidied up some, look under that there dry sink, see if'n there are some clean towels."

Dutifully, Wally did as directed and found a supply of freshly washed towels.

"Spread them out on the table so it's nice and soft fer the baby, then stoke up that there wood stove, so's it's good and warm in here." It took Wally a few minutes but he got the towels laid out and the wood stove going.

"Check under them cupboards fer another basin, then fill it with some of that warm water from the kettle and bring it over to the table here."

Finally Kingston had everything the way he wanted it. The room was so warm that the two Sharlow men had perspiration bubbling on their foreheads. Kingston had found the pile of baby garments and selected a gown and undershirt for the infant. He had arranged a diaper and was now set to bathe the baby.

"Pa," Wally questioned, "do you know what you're doing?

"That's the second time tonight someone asked if I knew what I was doing… let me tell you, I done this when you was born, and when each of your brothers was born. I was always there to help your Ma when you young'ins came into this here world."

Wally watched his father's gentle handling of the newborn in stunned surprise, he'd never have thought the old man had that much tenderness in him.

Maybe it was due to the fact, he'd never been a father to a daughter or just the fact he'd had a hand in bringing her into the world, but Kingston was awestruck by the little baby, "Ain't she a beauty son?" he asked. To Wally one baby looked like another although he had to admit she looked a considerable amount better now that she had been cleaned up. Kingston carried the baby to a chair and sat down. He studied the infant's face while his hand played with her miniature fingers. "Look at the grip this here little gal has! I don't reckon you nor any of your brothers had a stronger one."

Wally nodded but his mind had strayed to the sounds coming from the bedroom down the hall. He heard the man's voice offering encouragement to the woman and the sound of her cries as she labored.

Kingston smiled as he noted the look on his son's face, "Tis the way of the world, boy … we come into this life bringing pain and joy to them that loves us best."

"It don't seem right Pa, that a woman should have to suffer so to birth a baby."

"I ain't never heard a woman say it weren't worth what she went through once she was holding her babe in her arms." His eyes narrowed as a wistful smile crossed his face, "Leastways your Ma never did." His mind drew the pleasing picture the ol' woman had made holding each of their newborn sons, "My oh my, she'd been a pretty gal, and still is right handsome as I recollect." He spoke his thoughts out loud not even realizing it.

This was surely a new side to his father, and it left the youngest son bewildered. The old man had been sent to prison when Wally was just an infant and Elmer a toddler. He remembered seeing him only once in the first fifteen years of his life. When Kingston was released from prison, he'd come home and taken Elmer with him to join up with his much older brothers in Kansas.

Wally shook his head trying to make sense of things. How could this be the same man who rode side by side with outlaws Frank and Jessie James, William "Bloody Bill" Anderson and Archie Clement on William C. Quantrill's famous raid on Lawrence, Kansas on August 21, 1863? Wally still had his battered ten-cent copy of THE LAWRENCE MASACRE. The book claimed 150 men were shot down in cold blood, eighty women were made widows and 250 children were made orphans. Its pages detailed the final moments of each of the victims. Wally had found himself reading the book over and over in an effort to understand why his father would be part of this. He came to the conclusion that only a mad man could justify this kind of evil violence.

As a kid, books had been the only way he could find out about his father. He thought of the penny novels he and Elmer had read as boys about their father and brothers, the notorious Sharlow Gang. Wally had been drawn to the books in a struggle to learn about the man his mother refused to talk about; the father he never knew. It was the violence, which pulled Elmer to the stories. Elmer had always talked in those growing up years about joining their brothers. He would fantasize that his name would be included when they talked about the most feared gang in the West. To Elmer that dream came true when his father returned to Missouri to get him. Elmer had grown close to his older brothers, whom he worshipped as heroes. While he hadn't had the chance to ride with them, he was usually back at the hide out ready to help in anyway he could.

Wally had been happy to stay on the farm and help his Ma. She never spoke a word about the old man, but he could tell she had regrets about her life and the man she'd married. Eventually Pa had returned and when he left again it was with Wally riding reluctantly at his side. He'd hated every single day he'd been away from the land he'd grown up tending and had come to figure he'd never live to see it again.

Kingston looked up from the baby he was holding to his youngest son, "Boy, you look wore out. You go on in that there fancy parlor and catch yourself a little shut-eye, we'll be riding on to Dodge in the morning."

Kingston listened as he heard the sounds of his son settling down in the front room. The baby was fussing and he knew she was hungry, "Nothing I can do fer you little missy." He told the infant. But to soothe the child he stood up, walking around the kitchen making little rocking motions with his arms. It hadn't seemed that many years ago he'd held Wally in his arms. Where had those years gone, he thought? He'd missed so much of his boy's life. His older sons had been born before the war into a different world. It had seemed only natural they'd take up with Kingston as he followed the path set by Quantrill's Raiders. He'd figured he was doing the right thing when he brought Elmer and Wally with him to join up with the gang, but now, holding this new life in his arms he could only think how much he had missed of his life. With a vague sense of melancholy, he realized it was too late to set things right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

The buckskin had seemed eager for the ride despite the frigid temperatures and the snow blowing in frosty whirlwinds across the trail. The gelding was larger than Elmer Sharlow's horse; in fact he was more animal than the young man had ever been on before. It took all of his skill to control the horse as they started down the road. But the gelding hadn't been ridden in three months and his age was beginning to show, by the time they arrived in Dodge the old horse's sides were heaving as he snorted in protest.

**GS GS GS**

It was well after Midnight and Dodge City was closed tighter than a drum as the residents huddled under thick quilts or clustered around their fireplaces and wood stoves in an effort to keep themselves from freezing before the spring thaw came. Only a few brave souls had ventured out on a night like this. Those without a hearth and home to warm them sought comfort in establishments such as the Long Branch Saloon.

Nathan Burke had been sitting at a table near the rear of the saloon, not far from the pot bellied stove, playing a friendly game of poker and nursing a glass of beer. He'd joked during the course of the evening that the brew was about the only thing warm in the bar. His longtime friends Mr. Halligan and Mr. Lathrop had agreed. The earlier crowd had thinned out and now only a few of the faithful remained.

Even with several beers and the warmth from the stove the room held a chill. Those sitting farthest from the stove could see their breath as they spoke. The regulars admitted a bit nostalgically to one another, even on the coldest of nights there had been something about Miss Kitty that could stoke up a man's fire in a way Miss Hannah never could.

Mr. Halligan pulled his pocket watch from his vest and studied the time waiting for the numbers to come into focus. "I'd best be movin' on home, tomorrow morning comes mighty fast," he added with a chuckle, "In fact it's already here."

Nathan stifled a yawn as he nodded in agreement. His chair screeched across the floor. Standing upright, he tossed his cards on the table. "Guess I'll call it a night too. I'm expecting an early shipment if it can get through with all this snow!"

The goodnights exchanged, Mr. Halligan and Mr. Lathrop headed out the door. Burke took his time as he nodded his head in the direction of the bartender. Sam was closing the bar for the night, drying glasses, and organizing the liquor that lined the back shelf. He was only half listening to one of Festus Hagen's long-winded stories. Festus had returned to Dodge shortly after the New Year to resume his duties as a Deputy Marshal. Promptly upon his return he'd come down with a case of the gout. He'd been recovering from the malady for several weeks and now the affected foot was bandaged and propped against the boot rail. His cane was lying across the bar as he drank a final glass of medicinal whiskey.

"Night." Sam called out as Burke headed out the door.

Nathan wrapped his wool jacket a little tighter around his frame preparing for the icy blast that hit when he opened the door. What he wasn't prepared for was the sight of Matt Dillon's horse with a strange rider sitting on his back. He stood with the door open for several moments wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"Burke you knuckle head would ya shut that dad-burn door afore you give us all a case of the knee-mo-nee?" Festus hollered.

"Festus!" Burke called back urgently, motioning him over to the door.

Festus looked at Sam shaking his head in exasperation, then hollered, "What in thunder is ailing you tonight Burke, you're acting plum adelpated."

"Festus, get over here," Burke hissed insistently, "Someone's riding in on Marshal Dillon's horse."

Hagen cast a quick worried glance at Sam as he set his beer glass down, grabbed his cane and hobbled over to the open door.

He narrowed his left eye as his right took a full assessment of the situation. He paused just for a moment at the door before pushing through to the street. Burke followed close behind.

"Boy?" Festus called in young Sharlow's direction. "You lookin' fer something?"

Elmer pulled the horse to a stop in front of the Long Branch. His hat and jacket were crusted with frozen snow. His cheeks bore the early signs of frostbite. With chattering teeth he stammered, "I'm looking for a medicine man, goes by the name of Bledsoe."

"What fer?" Festus queried suspiciously.

"There's a woman at a ranch, 'bout five miles down the road, she's having a baby, her man said she needs help." Elmer revealed as he slid from the gelding's back.

"Miss Kitty!" Festus declared looking in Burke's direction. "What's ya standing there with your mouth open fer Burke? Go on up and get Doc Bledsoe, tell him Miss Kitty needs him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Adams laughed with joy at the squalling infant. He was just a mere mite of a baby, but now that life was his, he'd vocally welcomed it with all the energy his tiny body possessed. Kitty lifted her head from Matt's shoulder, staring at the sight of her baby. Tears of happiness transformed those of grief. She held out her arms for the babe, and Adams brought him to her. The little one quieted in her hold as the connection was made. His eyes opened wide surveying the security of his world. She brought her cheek to his downy head rubbing back and forth. She cradled him in her arms and his lips sought her breast. She laughed at the sight of his little mouth rooting instinctively for food and comfort. With one hand she unbuttoned her gown and exposed her breast. The baby's mouth searched for her nipple and immediately latched on. Matt watched awestruck unable to take his eyes off mother and son. The bond was complete.

Sharlow cleared his throat awkwardly, while still standing at the doorway, "Ma'am beggin' your pardon, but I think this here little gal could use some of that there too."

Matt looked up and smiled at the newborn in Sharlow's arms. From the looks of things the stranger had washed the newborn and dressed her in one of the newly sewn flannel gowns that had been in the kitchen. Dillon moved from the bedside to the man holding his daughter. He reached out as Sharlow placed the child in his arms. For a moment the baby rested in the hands of both men.

"It's most near sun-up, I reckon I'll fix us all some grub." Sharlow offered, his eyes left Dillon's face to look again at the baby girl. He winced as if beset by a sudden heartache. He turned abruptly and left the room. They listened to his footsteps as he walked down the hall to the kitchen.

By the time the smell of fresh bacon and coffee filled the house, Kitty Russell Dillon was fast asleep. The two babies, one cradled in each arm were sleeping too. Traces of first milk lingered on their sweet rosebud mouths. Matt stood over the bed drinking in the sight of his family. He was filled with a complete contentment, such as he'd never known before. The Bible passage became suddenly clear to him, "to everything there is a season." He took a deep breath, taking his time letting it out.

Doc walked up beside him, and rested a hand on the lawman's shoulder. "Good night's work I'd say."

His gaze remained steadfast. Dillon nodded and said simply, "Yeah."

Doc continued, "Think we can put Number One and Two to bed without waking up Mother?"

Matt gave his old friend a lopsided grin, "I'm pretty new at this Doc. They're so small."

"Yeah, but they're all there. I think they're going to do just fine, so is Kitty." He emphasized his remark with an extra squeeze to Dillon's shoulder.

The cradle Doc had made months ago had been moved to the corner of the room near the stove. It had been dressed in ribbon and lace. Adams expertly picked up the baby girl and carried her to the cradle where he gently placed her in the bed.

"Smells like breakfast is ready." Adams said as he watched Dillon nervously reach for his son. Ever so cautiously, Matt slid his hand under the sleeping infant and picked him up. It came as a surprise to the former Marshal how natural it felt to hold his son.

"Are you coming Matt?" Adams whispered as he turned to leave the room.

"I'll be there in just a minute." Dillon answered.

He couldn't have expressed in words what he was feeling; he knew that he didn't want to let go of the baby or this moment just yet. He moved to the cradle watching his daughter as her little chest rose and fell with each breath she took. His son was awake and making little mewing sounds. Instinctively, Dillon swayed back and forth, rocking the baby until he was again quiet in his arms.

Kitty had been drifting in and out of a hazy sleep. The first brilliant rays of sunrise were filling the room with a warm glow that worked to coax open her eyes. Outlined against the curtained window she saw her husband as he soothed the newborn. The big man's lips pressed to the baby's fuzzy head as he whispered an inaudible pledge into his son's ear. For just a brief moment her mind traveled back eight years, picturing Matt holding one of the Roniger triplets. She had thought her heart would break at that bittersweet sight. Now a tear slipped between her lashes as she cried for the woman she had been and the woman she had feared she always would be. This moment had seemed an impossibility on that long ago day. She said a grateful prayer of thanks as exhaustion forced sleep to claim her again.

At last Dillon laid the tiny infant in the little bed next to his twin. The finished product of Kitty's six-month struggles with yarn and knitting needles lay folded beside the cradle. Dillon picked the blanket up and shook out its folds. It was oddly shaped with uneven stitches but she had finished it and proudly placed it beside the bed. He looked back at her and smiled. She was not a woman to accept defeat lightly he thought. With loving hands he placed the blanket over the sleeping twins.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

He followed the tempting aroma of the stranger's breakfast to the kitchen where a place had been set for him. Doc was already seated at the table and heaping pancakes on his plate.

"Set yourself down here Mister, I reckon you worked up a good appetite last night." The stranger offered pleasantly. Matt took a chair next to Doc, he was hungry. He hadn't had a real meal since the breakfast Kitty had prepared for him the day before. There wasn't time for much table talk, everyone was intent on filling their plates and stomachs. When they'd eaten the platters bare, Matt stood up and brought the coffee pot over to the table and filled everyone's cups.

"Doc, I almost forgot, how's Bessie Roniger?" Matt asked.

"She's fine, had a girl, they named her… um…" he paused taking a moment to think. "Regina, good size baby, bigger than both of yours put together, but they're both doing fine." Adams took a long drink of his coffee, then asked, "That reminds me, what have you and Kitty decided on for names?"

Dillon chuckled, "We never did get around to making a decision on that. I told Kitty that if we had a girl I wanted to call her Kathleen."

Doc nodded, "That's a fine idea."

Matt shook his head, "Well Kitty didn't agree, she said we'd end up calling her Katie and we'd eventually shorten it to just Kat, and how would that sound if I had to call them both and shouted `come Kitty Kat'."

Sharlow nodded knowingly, "You gots to be mighty careful when you pick a name fer a youngin', makes a difference how they turn out. Course we never got a chance to use it but me and the missus always said we'd call a gal baby, Elizabeth. That's the old woman's name, and she's 'bout as fine a lady as you'd ever want to find." The thought of how much he really missed his wife caught in Kingston's throat and he couldn't go on. He picked up his coffee cup and took a long drink to cover up his emotion.

Munching on the last slice of bacon, Doc asked, "What about the boy?"

"Well, of course Kitty wanted to name a boy, Matthew." Dillon acknowledged.

"And you don't?" Doc asked.

"I never did like hearing a boy called Junior or Sonny; it seems to me it'd be awful hard growing to a man with a tag like that attached to you." Matt explained.

Sharlow placed his cup down abruptly so that it rattled in its saucer. His eyes narrowed as a knot twisted in his gut. "Matthew" the name caused the hurt in his heart to swell and for a moment he thought he'd have to leave the table. Forcing himself to rational thought, he glanced back at the gaunt crippled farmer seated across the table. With a wry chuckle Kingston scoffed at his own foolishness. This broken man could barely walk, and no more resembled the mighty Marshal Matt Dillon than he himself did.

"Looks like you've got a problem on your hands." Doc chuckled.

Matt concurred, "We couldn't even come up with one name we agreed on, now we've got to come up with two." Dillon stood, "I think I'll fix up a tray for Kitty, she'll be hungry when she wakes up."

**GS GS GS**

Matt Dillon set the tray on the table beside Kitty's bed. She was still sleeping and he didn't have the heart to wake her. The babies were stirring, causing the cradle to rock gently. He limped over just to check on them. "By Golly, they're tiny." He thought. He dropped awkwardly to a knee, just to get a closer look. Number Two's little hands stretched over his head. His eyes scrunched up and his nose wrinkled, his face turned red, and even to an unseasoned father such as Matt Dillon it was obvious that something was about to happen. There was no denying the sound that came from the direction of the baby's diaper.

Dillon felt a sense of panic, he had an urge to run, maybe pretend he hadn't noticed or heard anything, but there was no repudiating the smell. "How could such a little thing make that big a stink?" he wondered. He wasn't going to face this battle alone. This required an expert.

He hobbled to the doorway and called in a hushed whisper, "Doc!"

Adams had been finishing his coffee, but noting the alarm in Matt's voice, wasted no time in getting to his feet. "What's wrong?" Doc asked as he entered the room? A glance in Kitty's direction convinced him she was fine.

"It's Number Two, he … ah… I think he has a ahh … a pant's full!"

If it hadn't been for the seriousness in Dillon's voice, Adams would have thought he was kidding. "Well what do you need me for?" He asked gruffly. "That's a father's job, I've done my part."

"But Doc…"

"Surely you've changed a diaper before?" Doc asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah, but that was a few years back – I don't remember that baby being this small or… smelly." Dillon replied thinking of baby Mary and his time with her on the trip back to Dodge.

With a tug to his ear, Adams replied, "It's very simple, I'll get you a fresh basin of water, wash the baby's bottom off and put on a fresh diaper. "Oh, don't forget to rinse out the soiled diaper."

Doc stood back and watched offering suggestions whenever possible. Number Two's first official bowel movement had the consistency of black tar and was almost as difficult to remove. "Watch out for his belly band!" Adams warned. It took quite a while but finally Number two was changed and dressed in a clean flannel gown.

"Now don't forget about rinsing out that diaper." Doc reminded him.

"Do I have to?" The fearless lawman asked.

"Good Heavens!" Adams declared, "What did you do with little Mary's diapers?"

"I buried them!" Matt replied. Number Two was still fussing and as Matt held him the baby's mouth hungrily searched for something Dillon didn't have.

"I think he's hungry." Matt knowingly informed Doc.

Adams at this point was enjoying himself immensely, "It would appear so. I guess we'd best wake Mother up. I don't think you can help him this time."

She'd been awake for several minutes; sleep being impossible with the commotion occurring in the babies' corner of the room. She was weak, her bottom hurt and every muscle in her body ached, but she'd never felt happier. "Bring that baby over here Cowboy." She ordered.

"Well, hello." Matt responded with a grin as he brought the baby over and laid him in her arms. She offered Number Two her breast, which he greedily accepted. With a laugh she said, "This baby is definitely his father's boy."

"Kitty!" Matt whispered, he gave a slight nod of his head and a raise of his eyebrow in Doc's direction.

She smiled, clarifying her meaning, "He's always hungry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

John Bledsoe was sharing an early morning coffee with acting Marshal Newly O'Brien. Yesterday had been a long day followed by an even longer night. He'd felt the need to unwind and seeing the light on at the Marshal's he'd stopped by. A friendship had formed between the two in the last few months as they each struggled to fill another man's shoes.

**GS GS GS**

Nathan Burke was frantic; he'd searched Doc's office and finding that empty had run down the street to the Bledsoe home. Banging on the door in a state of panic he'd awakened Martha Bledsoe and two year old Ulysses.

Burke had apologized profusely, then explained, "It's Miss Kitty, it's her time, they need Dr. Bledsoe at the Dillon's."

"Mr. Burke, Dr. Bledsoe is not home," Martha said, trying to hide a yawn behind her hand, "I do believe my husband was out to the Harris ranch earlier and then he mentioned something about stopping in to see Mrs. Krause, she's been down with the influenza, but with this weather…" She paused to think, and readjusted the toddler on her hip, "My goodness, he could be most anywhere."

"Ma'am, I've got to find him." Burke insisted. He glanced at the Grandfather clock standing in the hallway. It was past two o'clock.

"I know." Her face brightened at a thought, "Did you try the Marshal's office, sometimes he stops by at the end of his day to talk with Mr. O'Brien?"

Burke touched his hat, and said a quick, "Thank you ma'am," and was off racing down the street again. His boots had filled with snow, and his toes had lost feeling by the time he reached Front Street. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw a light burning in the Marshal's Office windows. He rapped on the door, opened it and was rewarded by the sight of Bledsoe reclining in a chair with his feet propped on the worn worktable and a mug of coffee in his hand.

"Burke? What's wrong?" O'Brien asked, jumping from his seat to assist the exhausted man.

Nathan was breathing hard and it took a moment before he could spit out the words, "A boy rode in on Marshal Dillon's horse, said Miss Kitty needs doctoring real bad."

The briefest of looks was exchanged between lawman and physician before they both sprang into action.

"Newly can you saddle up my mare while I run up to the office to grab some supplies?" O'Brien nodded and both men were gone before Burke had a chance to catch his breath.

**GS GS GS**

Festus Hagen was growing impatient wondering what was keeping Burke. His fingers drummed on the table as young Elmer gulped down the sandwiches and coffee that Sam had brought over for him. When the boy had finished Festus questioned him. "What did you say your name was boy?" Elmer looked up from the plate to study the man speaking to him, for the first time he noticed the badge partially concealed by his vest.

"Elmer." He replied cautiously, "Are you the Marshal?" He asked thinking if this were Dillon, their job wasn't going to be as difficult as they'd thought.

His chest puffed out as he made the proclamation, "I am the deputy United States Marshal."

"Where's the Marshal at?" Elmer asked.

"If youra talkin' about the actin' United States Marshal, that would be ol' Newly and I s'pect he's at his office a sleepin'."

"What about Dillon, I heard he was the Marshal in these here parts?"

"Don't you know whose house you was at? You was ridin' his horse!" Hagen stood up, grabbing his cane; he limped to the door and opened it. Looking up and down the deserted snow packed street he asked no one in particular, "What the heck is keeping that Burke?"

Elmer Sharlow felt a wave of shock course through his body. How could this be? Dillon was supposed to be in Dodge City, What was he doing out on a farm?"

The chairs had been placed atop the tables and Sam was nervously sweeping up the floor for the third time. He had a worried preoccupied expression on his face. "Maybe I should go look for Doc Bledsoe?" he questioned.

But it was at that moment Festus saw the door to the Marshal's office open, "There they are, they're a coming outa Matthew's office." Relief sounded in Hagen's voice as he turned around to face the bartender with a smile on his face.

Elmer Sharlow sat at the table barely taking in the conversation between the two older men. He was still trying to grasp the fact his Pa was helping Matt Dillon. He chuckled at the thought; he wouldn't be helping him for long once he found out who he really was. A mean smile started on his lips that he quickly reined in. "Damn," he thought, "I'm going to miss out on all the fun."


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

John Bledsoe glanced at his riding companion, the boy seemed nervous. The doctor had tried to carry on a conversation with the young stranger on the ride out to the Dillon ranch, but the howling wind blasting frozen pellets in their faces soon put a stop to that.

The going was rough with no moon to light their trail, and what trail there was, obscured by the blowing and drifting snow. Several times they found themselves off the road and having to back track. The rising sun made travel some better. Halfway there, Bledsoe's horse began protesting the ride. The mare's head bobbed up and down as if in pain and she pawed at the snow with her right foreleg.

"I s'peck your horse has ice balls under them shoes." Elmer advised, "Best git off and let me take a look." Elmer couldn't have asked for a better set of circumstances. He took his time checking each hoof and using his pocket knife to scrape under the shoes, by the time the pair came in sight of the Dillon ranch it was mid-morning.

Bledsoe slid off his horse and handed the reins to Elmer. "Can you see to the horses, while I check on Mrs. Dillon?"

The younger Sharlow resisted the urge to draw his gun on the physician. He took the reins without a word and headed down to the barn.

Bledsoe ran up the kitchen porch steps, banged on the door and walked in.

Kingston Sharlow had just finished drying the breakfast dishes. He still had a dish towel tucked in his pants when the kitchen door opened. Taking in the youthful appearance and the medical bag Kingston scolded, "Are you fixing to wake up them babies, boy?".

John smiled and offered his hand, "You must be Elmer's father. I take it Mrs. Dillon has already been delivered of her babies."

"Mrs. who?" Kingston Sharlow figured he was hearing things, but even as this thought crossed his mind he knew the words to be true.

"Miss Kitty, Mrs. Matt Dillon," Bledsoe answered. Footsteps coming down the hallway drew his attention away from the old stranger.

"Bout time you got here John." Adams greeted unable to hide the grin on his face. "Well get out of those wet things and take a look at what we've been up to."

Bledsoe slid out of the soggy jacket placing it on a kitchen chair near the cook stove, his hat was hung on a peg near the door, and pulling off his boots he placed them under the hat. His socks were soaking and made a squishing sound as he followed Adams down the hall.

Sharlow stood as a statue. A blow to the chest couldn't have affected him more; he felt the air deflate from his lungs. He couldn't have said a word had he tried. Wally had been sleeping on a parlor chair when he heard the sound of Bledsoe's arrival. He came in the kitchen rubbing his eyes. "Did Elmer get back?" Wally asked.

Kingston nodded, his face set in a grim stare.

"Did he bring the other doctor?"

Sharlow gave a single nod, his features remained frozen.

"Well, where is he Pa?"

Sharlow tuned to his son, and the look in his eyes was enough to frighten the boy.

"That man in there, that man is Matt Dillon." Sharlow tuned and looked in the direction of his gun belt, which hung on one of the pegs by the door. The faces of his dead sons flashed before his eyes as he reached for the holster. He felt the pull of its familiar weight as he strapped it to his waist.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

Elmer Sharlow took hasty care of the buckskin and the doctor's mare, not bothering to remove saddles or bridles; instead he turned his attention to the Sharlow horses. He saddled each animal making sure they were ready for a fast escape. Adrenaline pumped through his veins making his heart race in anticipation. He led the horses up to the house and tied them to the porch-hitching rail. Before entering the house, he checked his weapon making sure it was ready for action.

He was relieved to find his father and Wally alone in the kitchen, "Pa," he whispered urgently, "This is Matt Dillon's ranch."

Hate hardened the old outlaw's face, "I know son, I know." The words came from his mouth like a growl.

Elmer's hand moved impatiently to his revolver, fingering the gun in his holster, keeping his voice low he said, "I got the horses saddled, all we got to do is finish off Dillon and get the hell outa here, that saw bones, ain't about to stop us."

The Sharlows turned with a start at the sound of footsteps in the hall. "Matt and Kitty would like you to step into the bedroom." Doc requested with a smile.

Kitty was sitting up in bed, pillows plumped behind her. Her auburn hair brushed to a shine was softly pulled from her face and held in place by a blue satin ribbon. She was dressed in an ivory laced bed jacket. In the crook of each arm rested a sleeping baby. She looked up at him and smiled.

Matt limped toward Sharlow, "I don't know how Kitty and I can ever thank you. You were an answer to a prayer."

Kitty's lovely blue eyes turned to capture the older man's, "We wanted to do something to let you now how much you meant to us last night. We'll never forget you and what you did. Matt told me your wife's name and how you had planned to give it to your own daughter. Well, if it is alright with you, we'd like to call our little girl Elizabeth."

Sharlow gulped. His hand had been resting on the handle of his gun, his fingers tightening their grip. He looked back to the man he hated. Noticing now, how Dillon's eyes were smudged by dark shadows and lined with weariness. His cheeks sunken from pain and sickness. It was evident even the effort to stand tall took it's toll. Yet, he sensed too, there was no give to the man. He'd wittnessed the boundless devotion between husband and wife and he suspected this was the source of their combined strengths. In the short span of time since he'd come to this ranch house he'd experienced a kind of love he had forgotten existed.

Kitty's head tilted slightly as she tenderly gazed at Kingston. She couldn't read his thoughts but she could tell he was troubled, she said again, "if it's alright with you …"

Breaking the spell, his eyes returned to rest on the new mother, A ghost of a smile formed on the outlaw's lips "Ma'am, I'd be mighty proud to know your little gal is named Elizabeth."

Kitty tried it on for size, "Elizabeth Kathleen Dillon, I think that fits, don't you Matt?"

Dillon nodded and turned to his good friend, "Well Doc, since you brought Number Two into this world and made certain he learned how to cry, we'd like you to give him a name."

The old physician was stunned; he blinked his eyes as though they'd come in contact with a speck of dirt. He moved closer to Kitty so he could place a hand on the baby boy's head. "My father's name was James – If I'd had a son, that's what I would have named him."

Matt nodded, "A good strong name, James Matthew Dillon it is."

All eyes turned to Elizabeth and James. Watching the tiny newborns, Kingston Sharlow felt the hate leave his heart. The burden was released from his soul and he felt buoyed by the relief. In her dreams little Elizabeth Dillon must have had a happy thought or perhaps it was just gas, but a tiny baby smile stretched her lips. Sharlow felt the smile tugging at the edges of his own mouth.

Clearing his throat he announced, "It's time for me and my boys to be moving on."

"Can't you stay a little longer, at least until the weather clears a bit?" Kitty asked.

"We're used to traveling like this, besides it's time we're headed home. Been too long since I've seen my own Elizabeth, I tell you true, being here's made me lonesome-hearted for the ol' woman."

"Thank you again." Matt told the stranger as he offered his hand. With only a slight hesitation Sharlow accepted the handshake. Then he turned and left the room before Matt had a chance to say more. Elmer and Wally followed in his wake. At the kitchen door Kingston grabbed his coat from the chair he'd draped it over the night before.

"Pa? What are we doing?" Wally asked bewildered by his father's change of heart, hoping against hope his Pa had meant what he'd said.

Slapping a hand against the youngster's back, Sharlow replied, "We're going home son."

Elmer Sharlow couldn't believe what he was seeing and hearing. Grabbing his father roughly by the shoulders, he forced him to turn around, "What the hell's wrong with you old man?" He hissed. "This is what we've been planning for." With both his hands leveled at the old man's chest Elmer pushed him backward and off-balance. Then he pulled the gun from his holster and headed back toward the bedroom.

"Elmer!" His father called in a harsh whisper. Kingston Sharlow pulled out his own gun and pointed it at his son's back.

Elmer heard the hammer cock on his father's revolver and spun around to face the old man; both guns aimed the one at the other.

"Put away your gun son, the time for killing is over."

Elmer shook his head, His teeth were bared; anger made him reckless, "You're crazy! You spent all this time breeding hate into us, now you think you can just turn it off. That man in there shot your sons, he killed my brothers and if I have to kill you to do it, I'm gonna see him dead."

From the bedroom where Doc and Dr. Bledsoe were examining the newborns, Matt had heard the harsh voices coming from his kitchen; at first he ignored them thinking this just a family squabble. Afraid they might disturb Kitty, he quietly left the bedroom shutting the door behind him to stand in the hall's shadows.

He listened for a moment to their words before he realized his life was in danger. The gun and holster that had served him for so many years were in a locked cabinet in the parlor, there was a rifle in the kitchen but he had no chance of getting to that. His only hope was to come up behind Elmer and take him by surprise before any blood was shed.

It took four awkward strides to get to Sharlow, the younger man heard him coming up behind him. Spinning around with the gun aimed at Matt's chest he shouted, "You're a dead man Dillon; this is for my brothers"

His injured back was forgotten in the need to protect his own. Matt swung his left arm under Sharlow's gun sending the weapon flying across the room before it had a chance to discharge. His right fist connected with Elmer's jaw. The force sent the stunned young man sprawling to the floor. Wally moved to retrieve the gun and handed it to Matt.

Dillon's eyes had narrowed to slits of steel blue and his frame loomed large and commanding. Gone was the gaunt crippled farmer. Before them stood the legend in the flesh. He nodded his head in Kingston's direction, "put the gun away," As Sharlow holstered his revolver Matt continued, "Now what's this all about?"

"The name is Sharlow and we come to kill you." Kingston explained.

Matt's face remained rigid, "What changed your mind?"

"Reckon it was you saying I was an answer to a prayer. Elmer there, he don't see it that way. I taught him hate so long it's all he knows.

Wally inched closer to his father's side. His eyes full of hope as his pa gave him a brief nod. Kingston fixed Matt with a stare as he added, "There ain't no price on our heads, I served my time and these boys ain't been 'round long enough to get themselves in no trouble, unless you're a fixin to lock up Elmer here."

Dillon took a moment to size up the man before him, then shook his head, "If I have your word there will be no more trouble, I won't press charges against the boy."

Kingston nodded, "You got my word."

"Where will you go now?" Matt questioned. Hating to send the old man away but too concerned with the safety of his family to let them stay.

"Like I said afore, we're goin' home…" Sharlow grimaced, "I reckon it's time Igot to know these last two boys of mine, a long trip back to Missouri might just give us time to do that." He grabbed his hat from the peg, and placed it on his head. He watched as Elmer scrambled to his feet gingerly testing out his jaw, to see if it still worked. The younger Sharlow grabbed his coat and ducked out the door, turning to look one last time into the eyes of Matt Dillon.

Kingston followed his boys out the door, but hesitated, he lifted his chin slightly as he spoke, "Take care of them youngin's specially that little Miss Elizabeth, she be special, mark my words." He turned his head to stare out the open door watching his last two sons mount their horses, "Remember this Mathew Dillon, your children be your legacy, they be your legacy."

Change of Life

THE END


End file.
